Saving the Unwilling
by Bobbie23
Summary: Nick's side of the story.


**Disclaimer - I don't own, just borrowing**

Saving the Unwilling

In the twilight between sleep and waking you lift your hand to swipe at your nose, but you're unable to stop whatever is tickling it from flicking back into position, fluttering against the end of your nose like a feather. It twitches again and you open your eyes to find a fan of golden hair flowing onto your pillow.

You sigh sleepily; you've forgotten what it's like to share a bed with someone. You hated sleeping alone after Maria left you; you were fine when she was overseas because you were still happily married but that changed when she filed for divorce. You got used to it out of necessity because you couldn't work on fumes, and now you need to adjust to sharing your bed again. You've spent the odd night at Amanda's and it's nice to have someone to cuddle up to, or at least get as close as she'll let you. You don't know if it's you or Amanda, but one of you is aware of her personal space when you're sleeping. This is the first time she's agreed to spend the night at your house, grumbling it was only because she was too tired to traipse all the way to her apartment with Frannie. The dog is now snoring on the rug at the end of the bed, unwilling to let her master out of her sight in the unfamiliar surroundings. They're both sleeping soundly and it's nice not to be spending the night alone in the small house which seems too big for just you on most nights.

You think back to the first night which is almost a blur of beer, whisky, and a cold walk back to her apartment which did nothing to hinder the drunken flirting before tumbling onto her bed in a tangle of limbs. You'd just had another fight with Maria and you were looking for a distraction from the sorry state of your relationship with your then soon-to-be ex-wife. You never went there to go home with Amanda but you knew exactly what she was looking for when you saw her in the bar. It was the fresh coat of make-up made her eyes sparkle and the heels coupled with the tight jeans she changed into made her legs look longer, you had to admit she caught your attention and it wasn't just because she was your colleague and friend. At first you were surprised she was in a bar so close to the precinct, you _know_ how protective she is of her privacy.

As the night wore on she let slip she had been to meeting earlier and though she never said you could tell it had gone badly. And that was the moment that persistent hero complex kicked in, the one that got you into trouble time after time. You knew you shouldn't, knew it could create a huge mess if you misjudged it even a little. But you thought to hell with it and acted on instinct, ready to play the saviour once again, what was one more note in your steadily growing file.

It wasn't that you didn't trust her, but you didn't want her to take someone home you didn't trust, someone who, in your mind, would use and hurt her. She was in the early days of recovery and you were scared anything would make her relapse.

You had always found her attractive, with her clear blue eyes which pierced through you and it didn't matter what mood she was in, her wry sense of humour never failed to elicit a smirk from you. So you slid on to the barstool next to hers, bumped her shoulder playfully and matched her drink for drink and were thankful she was already tipsy when you started plying her with easy banter. And to your surprise, Amanda played into your flirting, giving back as good as you gave her. You were careful not to say anything that would set her off and find someone else. A few hours later you were standing outside her apartment and her hand was insistently tugging yours, leading the way.

Another fine strand of hair tickles your nose and you swipe it again, careful not to disturb the woman with her back to you. It's odd looking at her this way. She's usually so guarded and it's weird to see how peaceful she is in your bed, how easy it was for her to let her defences down and let you in. Even now Amanda is curled into herself protectively and you think this as close as she'll let anyone get while she has her walls down.

Your gaze follows the long line of her neck, down to her collar bone and along her almost bare shoulder which peeks out from under the duvet. She definitely has a knack for making herself at home. A chuckle gets caught in your throat as you recall her adamant protest when you offered her a shirt to sleep in.

" _I don't borrow shirts, Nick, never have, never will," she gave a short laugh and shook her head as you hold the shirt out to her. "I'm not your girlfriend."_

" _You've never borrowed a shirt?" You ask, incredulous._

" _Nope," she replies, popping the 'p'. "It's the modern day version of marking your territory."_

 _You don't bother to smother your smirk as she lifts her sweater over her head to reveal her tank. You watch as she unclasps the button on her jeans and slides them off her hips. You bite your lip. You know putting a voice to the thoughts about her contrary behaviour going through your head will mean you'll be sleeping alone tonight. You can't help but laugh though as she smirks back at you. You already knew this would be different than the other times you've been together. This isn't a frenzied shedding of clothes which ended with you racing each other to a release. You're getting ready for bed, for sleep rather than sex. She may have grumbled about the convenience of staying at your place but she's not fighting it. She's comfortable and confident with her movements as she lifts the covers and slides into bed._

Of course you understand the situation you're in and the boundaries dictated by it. You have no illusions; you're friends with benefits. It's convenient, usually fleeting and without consequence. Well it is if no one catches you, or if they do you hope they won't call you out. And while you fully understood how this worked for other people, it never appealed to you before. You always assumed it would be a series of quick hook ups where no one got the respect they deserve. You couldn't fathom how people could do it and not feel guilty about it. You enjoy being romantic, you enjoy being with someone and knowing they were with you too. It doesn't offer the same emotional security a relationship does. You believed in being faithful. You swore you would never turn into your father; you'd spent so many nights as a child listening to your father sneak in through the front door long after your mother cried herself to sleep. This is changing all of your preconceptions. You enjoy this and how easy it is with Amanda. You go out as friends, they're not dates, and they don't all end with sex. Like tonight, she's sharing your bed as a friend and you know she doesn't expect sex. You've always let her take the lead when it comes to initiating that. There are rules but no expectations or declarations, and the support of your friendship is still solid if not stronger because she lets you see her vulnerable side where she admits she needs something from someone else even if she doesn't say it.

From what little she's been forced to reveal you know her childhood was as screwed as yours, if not more. She is so jaded about interpersonal relationships you're surprised it continued after that first time. You both seemed to sober up pretty quickly after your mutual orgasm and you lay side by side in her bed. You both stared at the ceiling, neither of you dared look at each other. It was shock and embarrassment. You had no idea what to expect from Amanda, no way to read her; she was just as likely to roll towards you as she was to kick you out. She rolled towards you clutching the sheet to her chest. She didn't say anything, just stared for a long time, studying you and your reaction. It unsettling and you thought it might have been better if she had kicked you out. But then her eyes softened a tad and her lip curled into a knowing smile.

" _I'll see you tomorrow Nick," she said, dismissing and thanking you in one sentence._

With that she slipped from the bed, taking the sheet with her to the bathroom. Relief motivated you as you collected your clothes and left her apartment before she came out of the bathroom. You remember wanting to apologise because you got something out of it that you never thought you needed. You never did though and neither of you mentioned it again. At all. Amanda didn't blank you the morning after but she never gave you any indication she wanted a repeat performance. Until a month later when you had another argument with Maria about signing the divorce papers and you went looking for her. And just like you, she knew what you needed.

God help you if she ever started questioning your motives or even suspects you were only with her that first night because you were protecting her and trying to save her from her own bad judgement and some unknown guy who would take advantage of her. You don't know what would be worse, her suspicion or the consequences if she realises she's right. You hope you never have to find out.

Next to you Amanda sighs in her sleep and twists onto her back and her hair finally withdraws from your pillow. Her nose wrinkles and she wriggles to get comfortable. It doesn't work and her back arches off the bed and you watch her chest strain against the covers before she flops back down onto the mattress. Her body curls towards you.

"Nick," Amanda half groans without opening her eyes. You crook your lip at the disgruntled utterance, wondering what you've done to piss her off or at least what her sleep riddled mind thinks you've done.

"Yeah?" You reply.

"I'm not gonna stay if you keep watching me sleep."

 **Author Note – Did you enjoy Nick's POV? Was it off point? If you have any comment and a few minutes please leave a review or send me a PM if you're uncomfortable leaving a public comment.**


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